Summary
Summary
This poem depicts
the emotional turmoil of Gopa, the wife of Lord Buddha (referred to as
"the Lord"), upon his return to Kapilavastu after his Great
Renunciation. The city is jubilantly decorated for his arrival, but Gopa is overwhelmed
with sorrow and fear when she sees him as a monk, begging for alms. Her anguish
deepens as she realizes that the man she once knew as a prince has completely
transformed, distancing himself from worldly attachments, including her.
Despite her anticipation of this moment, Gopa is devastated by the realization
that the Lord has transcended their past, leaving her in a state of profound
emotional pain and confusion. Her inner turmoil is echoed by her father-in-law,
King Shuddhodana, who also struggles to comprehend the drastic change in his
son. The poem vividly captures Gopa's heartbreak and the harsh reality of the
Lord's spiritual path, which leaves no room for their previous relationship.
The poem reflects
the deep anguish and despair of Gopa (Yashodhara) as she contemplates the
profound loss and separation from her husband, the Lord (Buddha), and her son
Rahul. Gopa wrestles with the intense emotions of abandonment and sorrow,
feeling utterly alone and shattered by the events that have transpired. She
laments her fate, questioning the meaning of life and the harshness of destiny,
as she faces the painful reality that both her husband and son have embraced a
path of renunciation, leaving her behind.
Gopa’s sorrow is depicted through vivid metaphors and imagery that convey her deep emotional turmoil. She likens herself to a lonely, wingless bird, a broken pillar, and a flower wilted by fate. The poem explores the themes of detachment, renunciation, and the pain of unfulfilled desires, as Gopa grapples with the inevitability of separation and the loss of her loved ones.
The Poem
Today the Lord arrives,
Kapilavastu!
The city adorned
like a new bride,
Jubilant,
bedecked in ornaments and garments,
Young and old,
men and women!
Streets, paths,
Branches,
sub-branches, homes, terraces,
Beautifully
decorated with flower garlands!
From windows,
balconies, doorways,
On the path, a
shower of flower petals rains!
Lord!
After the Great
Renunciation, today,
He returns for
the first time!
Suddenly a
proclamation arises,
The Lord has
entered the city!
He approaches the
royal palace,
Seeking alms with
fellow monks!
Gopa heard,
The Lord has
reached near the lion gate!
Suddenly her
heart trembled, she shook with fear!
Hastily, becoming
restless,
She opened both
shutters of the window!
From gusts of hot
wind,
Her delicate
body, weakened by fasts, ignited!
She looked up,
bewildered, afraid!
Surrounded by
flames, spewing fire,
The pure sun of
scorching summer!
Burning, the
clear blue sky without clouds!
Burning, the
earth wearing its colorless, worn garment!
Ah! This blazing
heat
This parched,
waterless earth!
Coming! The Lord!
Those once-soft
lotus feet,
How do they now,
fearlessly,
Endure the
scorching earth!
These rosy,
radiant feet,
That would
tremble at the touch
Of tender leaves,
kinshuks, newly bloomed petals!
Hands on the open
shutters,
Gopa stood still
for a moment, guileless!
Her anxious words
froze!
Like a creeper
struck by fierce wind,
She swayed to her
roots!
Dry, red lips
quivered!
Eyes cascaded
unrestrained tears!
Face, anguished,
melting with compassion, pale!
Body and mind
trembling, heart pounding!
Her tear-filled,
wide eyes saw,
For the first
time!
The sun of her
life, her sole support!
Golden body,
ochre robes,
Shoulder draped,
alms bowl in hand,
Going door to
door, seeking alms!
Gopa beheld this
unprecedented sight,
Filling her eyes
for the first time!
An unrestrained
surge of inner tide-like emotions!
Closing the
window shutters, spinning,
She leaned
against the closed doors for a moment!
Saying, "Yes
Lord! Yes Lord!"
She fell to the
ground, screaming helplessly!
Terrible,
invincible, intense, fierce, blazing,
Pain, like waves
burning in an ocean of tears
Surged, becoming
a thousand-tongued forest fire!
Her anguished,
wounded heart
Scattered into a
hundred pieces!
With wide-open
eyes,
Gopa saw before
her,
Clear and
manifest, laughing hideously,
Ah, the unseen, cruel,
fierce fate standing!
Rising from the
ground, falling again,
Somehow composing
herself,
She ran to King
Shuddhodana's chamber!
"Father! Father!
He who is the
crown prince,
Today, as a monk,
seeks alms
In his own
kingdom!
He, who always
gave everything,
Today, takes food
from the same people!"
Hearing this,
distressed Shuddhodana,
Placing his upper
garment on his shoulder,
Rushed out of the
palace, impatient!
He saw!
The mango tree of
his desires,
Burning from root
to tip!
The adorned,
cherished palace,
Crumbling to dust
on the ground!
This monk's form!
What past life's
painful mistake
Is exacting such
a heart-rending,
life-threatening
punishment!
He stood stunned
for a moment!
His heart
couldn't fathom,
How deep the
wound, where it struck!
Bewildered
absorption!
Consciousness
struck!
Stepping forward,
forcefully, mechanically,
He snatched the
alms bowl!
Embracing the
Lord in eager arms,
He pressed him
close to his heart!
Pushing aside the
alms bowl,
He spoke with a
tear-filled throat,
"This is not our family
tradition!
No prince has
ever,
Anywhere, at any
time, taken alms!
We have always
been givers!
We are donors!
Our hands have
always bent to give!"
The Lord spoke in
a calm, gentle, grave voice -
"I have no family tradition
The world of emotions
and dreams of the arhats,
Has no truth
here!
When one
renounces, becomes an ascetic,
He's no longer
one's own, but belongs to all!"
After welcoming
him in every way,
Shuddhodana
pleaded with the Lord - "Bhante!
Since you've
come, this much I beg,
Go to Gopa's
chamber once!
Just fulfill the
formality
Of meeting
her!"
She!
Since the day you
left home,
She gave up royal
food and clothes!
Earth for bed,
ochre robes, one meal a day!
Life dependent on
roots, fruits, flowers!
The Lord remained
silent,
Then looked
towards Shariputra and Maudgalyayana!
He signaled them
to move as well!
Said on the way,
"There, whatever you see!
You will not
question!"
Gopa stood silent
in anticipation!
Like an
unwavering lamp flame
Or a silent
string of tear-pearls!
Where the Lord
stood,
There was no
emotional splendor or specialness!
Abandoning
countless emotional planes,
Crossing the
granaries of food and mind,
He was wandering
in some unknown realm!
Beyond ordinary
human thought!
Yet, as if
enchanted, in deep meditation,
He made his way
to the inner chambers!
The Lord is
coming to Gopa's room!
Like trembling
leaves,
Gopa's
overwhelmed body and mind quivered
And her
pain-melted, anguished chest
Pounded
ceaselessly!
The approaching
footsteps on the ground,
Were also falling
On her impatient,
pain-filled inner heartbeats!
She! Was
perplexed,
Half-swooning,
trembling,
Like a young
banana leaf shaking!
How, in what way,
would she welcome him!
She herself, a
tear-soaked, unanswered question mark!
Heart, an
unbroken, unrestrained blazing fire!
Teeth clenched,
dry lips quivering!
Words,
Whirled by the
cyclone stirring her heart,
Forgot their own
sound!
What!
She had spoken or
was speaking in her mind,
Those words too,
Echoed
unfamiliarly in her empty ear cavities!
Eyes drowned in
tears!
Lotus petals
drenched in dew!
Downcast
lotus-petal eyelids with thick lashes!
Curly locks
scattered on the forehead!
Open, rough, long
hair reaching the knees,
Like anxious
serpents searching
For the
nectar-cup's placement!
Ochre robes,
A stunned, frail
body!
In the room like
a fresh rain cloud,
Lay an
unconscious, dimmed, lusterless light!
On the threshold,
footsteps halted!
Before Gopa's
eyes,
The whole earth
spun, tottering!
This was that
long-desired!
Long-awaited
moment!
For which the
mind, every instant,
Was utterly
restless!
But when that
hour manifested tangibly!
Ages of pained
consciousness,
Became wood-like,
inert, inactive, groundless!
The Lord was an
arhat, beyond attachment, dispassionate!
But Gopa was
still the same as before!
That bedroom
entrance! Was,
Between Gautama
and Gopa,
An impenetrable,
insurmountable, inevitable barrier!
On that side
stood the Lord!
On this side,
downcast eyelids, a tired moon-face!
As soon as the
Lord entered!
With
lotus-stem-like hands,
Gopa fell like an
uprooted tree,
At his holy feet,
Scattered like a
thousand petals,
Eyes streaming
incessant tears,
Covering his
lotus feet
Enveloping them
With her dark
hair-clouds, a silken garland!
A wordless,
silent weeping!
An indescribable,
unspoken, unrestrained narration of pain!
Merely, washing
his feet with tears!
That became,
The worship, the
plea, the praise, the salutation!
He who had come,
Did not remain
seated even for two moments!
Just as silently,
leaving his meditative pose,
He left, free
from duality and agitation!
Gopa startled!
Her cupped hands
remained empty!
Tear-soaked,
pale, distressed face!
Gopa rose,
Her eyes met
Shuddhodana's!
A single
question, empty and unanswered,
Flashed,
revolving,
In both their
eyes, becoming a burning fire!
With wide eyes
they gazed,
At that mocking
empty seat!
Why did he come!
How did he come!
Did the Lord have
not even a little knowledge!
Then this arrival
for what purpose,
whose respect did
he maintain!
The heart shook,
melting with pain!
Why like this?
Why like this?
Seven years of
day and night impatient waiting!
This is the
outcome it brought!
After all, why!
This question,
disoriented and tormented
Was burning like
a meteor!
Utterly unable to
stand in any way,
Gopa stood
leaning against the wall, eyes closed!
She kept thinking
to herself!
Any pain, of any
kind,
Ceaselessly
wandering in this heart's pathway,
Never remained
unfamiliar! It,
Kept opening a
new, untouched, vessel!
And kept filling
it with the color of emotional experience!
But what
heart-piercing, life-threatening,
Volcanic-explosive-unerring
blow,
Had she, for this
day
Safely preserved,
Such a deadly
twist of pain,
Even on the day
of home-renunciation and separation,
Had never come so
lethally!
What had passed,
also had an answer!
One day, the Lord
would come!
But today! This
arrival!
Was the
invitation-filled dawn
Of my past's
lonely nights!
It was the joyous
emotional surge
Of hopes' new
blossoming!
It was the
Swati-moist-fresh-cloud-droplet
Of every
answer-seeking, thirsty,
long-parched
question!
Flew, the
color-tides of a thousand questions,
Suddenly this
dense darkness, lusterless!
The rainbow
colors of asceticism, colorless,
Crumbling,
falling, dissolving!
Today! All
questions!
All answers!
Have become
timelessly closed,
In the black box
of great time,
In the cave of
deep darkness!
Now never, even
by mistake
Will a bright ray
of light
Be able to touch
it!
The pain that
compelled
The Lord to leave
home!
That pain,
residing in my inner self,
Broke me in every
atom!
This, life's
necklace scattered,
Broken and
dispersed
Each bead rolled
away!
Scattered on
known and unknown paths
Each of its
joints!
It seemed to
Rahul's mother
From that day
until now,
She,
grief-stricken, tear-bathed, anguished!
Only, in the
merciless bushes of the rainy season
Stood utterly
alone, watching the path,
Like hope-filled
leaves
Broken by
thunderbolts, one by one!
She, a rootless,
leafless, bare lotus stem!
Which time
mercilessly twisted,
Throwing it in
fate's kicks!
Today! When Rahul
will come!
He will find this
empty seat!
What answer will
she give!
On that empty,
well-adorned seat and stool,
She beat her head
and wept,
Again distressed
and anguished!
That day's
propriety,
Today became
causeless impropriety,
Making her
ceaselessly overwhelmed!
Still, she
couldn't believe that,
In the blazing
flames of truth-fire,
All kinds of
material enchantments
Had been reduced
to ashes!
In which
infinite, unbroken, great light
The Lord was
wandering!
There, had become
one,
Form, formless,
shape, nature,
Beginning-end,
consequence!
There was only
ceaselessly blazing,
A flawless,
indivisible, hard truth!
The infinite,
finite what knows,
Leaving the
world,
Why should it
recognize
A specific
individual!
The collective
had dissolved
Into the individual!
All earthliness
without distinction,
Luster dim,
nature
Standing
helpless, poor, and humble!
Thus no emotional
ground remained!
But Gopa!
Distracted in all
past relationships and memories,
Like a wounded
deer, kept wandering bewildered!
This is reality!
This is
actuality!
In this alone her
existence is woven!
In this alone the
pulsation of inner-ringing life!
What does she
know!
Crossing how many
worlds,
Who knows when,
where, moved on,
The master's
truth-mounted-upward-moving-vehicle!
Now he, forever
hidden!
Remained beyond
hope, unattainable!
But why,
The anguished
question of why!
Is biting her,
hissing poisonous, burning!
Like a cobra's
hood!
Placing both
hands
On her surging
chest!
She spoke to
herself!
Consoling
herself,
Be silent!
Gopa, be silent!
Who has ever been
a companion of solitary pain!
Only!
One rejection!
Woman,
Its definite
counter-image!
In the
ceaselessly, endlessly echoing
Sounds of
no-no-no, woman was born!
She!
A full stop on
all acceptances!
What suddenly
happened today!
It left nothing
anywhere!
The
separation-night was terrifying
But it too kept
moistening
With tears from
eyes!
In it alone,
In the moist,
cool,
Dark, dense
groves of memories,
The mind's cuckoo
would fly,
Gathering
scattered twigs of the nest!
But!
Today!
This bright day
like a blind mirror!
In which the
horizon of happiness has become invisible!
With what disdain
will it look!
Every silent
sharp eye-arrow,
Will pierce
through!
This growing
anguished, distressed heart!
Night would cover
In its moist,
affection-soaked veil,
This ceaseless
mind-burning!
But this
nightless, uncovered bright day!
It's Draupadi's
disrobing!
How will I,
alone,
Protect myself
from the arrows of questions!
Approaching
footsteps are coming from afar!
Carrying the
first arrow of questions,
It seems Rahul
has nearly arrived!
Those innocent,
guileless eyes!
How will she,
impatient, speak to him!
What will she
say!
Just this, dear
child, look!
Don't ask me any
questions!
Just look at me!
This was the same
condition,
Of forest-dwelling
Sita!
But Ram was a
king!
Justice-loving,
devoted to his subjects!
Still, in Sita's
mind,
A ray of hope
burned,
That someday Ram
would come!
Here, the
carefully preserved peace has scattered!
The oil is
exhausted,
Only the smoking,
burning wick remains!
I!
That river which,
tearing the heart
of the mountain,
Emerged
distressed,
But in the path
itself, in the hot sand
Remained, burning
up!
Could not meet,
The boundless
waves of the king of tides
Protecting,
embracing
With
outstretched, vast arms!
Of this
despair-darkness-enveloped black night,
There's never a
dawn anywhere!
In this deep
ocean,
Blooming infinite
water-born,
Observing in the
water,
Deep, profound
wounds,
Fate-given
merciless blows, unbearable pain!
Tearing the
heart!
Groundless tears
falling from eyes!
On the dark,
restless,
mist-filled
horizon of the eyes,
Burning, forests
of meteor-like tear-stars!
The mind, lonely,
like a wingless bird,
Lies, writhing,
extremely dejected!
This is life!
This is life!
This intoxicating
honey-forest of the elated mind!
And for the
suffering,
the clear
cloudless burning hot sky!
Just so, in the
scorched burning sky,
flapping wings
The mind
wandered, seeking peace!
Yashodhara!
Earth is
suffering, oppressed, exploited, neglected!
But placing it on
its head,
Bearing its
burden too,
Balancing it,
protecting it, keeping it dignified,
Is the
thousand-hooded serpent!
And,
Here, even from
flowers rain burning red, fire particles!
The sky too,
covered in worn-out blue garment,
Despairing of the
countless patches of stars,
In deep breaths
is leaving
Smoke-covered
poisonous hisses!
Day and night,
beating its head
Crying alas!
alas!
The ocean is mad
with its own sharpness!
What?
Moving-unmoving,
form-formless, eternal, timeless,
Decaying moment
by moment, changing, transient!
In all, one
constant return, dispersion!
Only an exchange
of separation-union!
A process of
becoming-dissolving,
The law!
What they call
the five elements,
Indestructible
existence in changing forms!
But, Gopa!
When the heart
breaks!
When does it
mend!
Washed by tears,
Even the smallest
brokenness becomes clearer!
In every tiny
particle,
There's an
intense sensation!
This!
Detachment!
Was not a
momentary impulse in the Lord's mind!
Who knows how
many births of exploratory,
Self-reflective
journey, on the horizon of pause,
There was a new
dawn of wisdom-knowledge!
There was only
one absorption, In his life!
There was no
entry for Gopa there!
This!
Marriage thread,
knot binding,
Why did the Lord
even bear this much!
And I!
Burning on the
tomb of memories,
A solitary lamp
flame!
Which only got
the dust,
Scattered on the
path, of the separated one's footprints,
Mere dry dust
particles!
Those very
sacred, pure dust particles,
Marked by the
Lord's signs,
Are the
sandalwood paste of this devotion-bowed forehead!
Of this
pain-melted, overwhelmed chest,
The fragrant
ointment!
Tears falling on
them,
Are performing
their consecration!
The concentration
broke!
Rahul came
running
Embraced her!
In a voice full
of extreme joy and haste
He said! Mother!
Mother!
Father! My
father! Has come!
Have you seen
him!
Looking at her
son with unblinking wet eyes,
Gopa bound him in
an embrace!
Clasped him in
both weak vine-like arms!
Somewhat panting,
she spoke, softly,
Did you see?
Shaking his head,
with innocent eyes,
Looking at his
mother, Rahul said-
No mother! How is
he!
All there are in
ochre robes,
With alms bowls,
in monk's attire!
How would I know
which one is father!
There is a deep,
profound silence there!
All come and go,
engaged in their work, absorbed in themselves!
No one speaks
even a little to each other!
All are timid,
apprehensive,
Scared, full of
overwhelming emotions!
Taking a deep
breath, Gopa fell silent!
You are my son!
The matter that
kept burning in my heart, always secret!
How do I tell
you!
Where is he!
Surely he must be
there!
Where my
expectant life burns ceaselessly,
Somewhere there
in the hot salts of tear-soaked desires,
His footprints
must have fallen!
Destroyed!
In the ruins of
aspirations, joys, enthusiasms,
In his very
remaining, falling walls' shadow,
Under the moist
clouds of memories!
Where the flashes
of mad pains rise,
He must be
standing, unmoved and calm!
All my vanished
happiness,
Lying, vocal,
marked,
In that
radiant-luminous face,
My past!
My beginning-end,
future lies motionless!
On that holy
foot-sole-feet-horizon
It's possible,
Somewhere might
lie the dreams-rainbow's,
Colorless
skeletons!
Which I have
been,
Nurturing in this
poor heart until now!
Silently looking
at Gopa,
Rahul shook her!
Say something!
Mother!
Gopa startled!
She spoke -
Rahul, my child!
Father!
Your father is
beyond all bonds!
He's no longer
just yours!
A trembling tear
on these eye corners,
For him would
become a tide-filled ocean!
Now those
ceaseless tear streams!
Couldn't become their
obstruction!
But!
I won't accept
defeat!
For the sake of
claiming my rights,
Until the last
moment, I will try!
I'll tell you who
your father is!
Again kissing
Rahul's forehead!
Her throat
choked!
She spoke,
placing
Her pale thin
hand on her chest!
Son!
Every moment,
every instant,
you've been with
me!
Mind extremely
apprehensive, pain-stricken!
You alone remain,
my only unattainable wealth!
This lonely
mind's, this utterly
Solitary, silent
wild journey!
Can't even
remember, how much pain was endured!
What was its
measure!
In this thorny
desert of pain,
In this secluded
dense loneliness,
You alone,
like an
auspicious moist loving cool star,
Kept shining!
In this sky of
despair, darkness, unrest,
How many seasons
came, went, passed,
How many auspicious
dates remained empty!
Other places'
joyous festivals!
Scattered in this
courtyard,
Taking mocking,
arrow-pierced, poor defeat!
Now!
Any festival!
Doesn't feel like
a festival!
It seeps into
every vein as pain!
In the shadow of
these empty eyes' wet eyelashes,
Dark clouds
always remained encircled!
In waves of
tears!
In watches of
pain!
The arrow-pierced
cuckoo cried,
In the kohl-black
darkness,
Who saw!
In those empty
nights,
Tear-drops became
torches, what were they searching for!
Writhing-writhing,
distressed,
In their own
indescribable inner burnings!
Today!
This neglected,
scorned, wave-tormented,
Tear-tide! Has
become
Suddenly stunned,
senseless!
Seeing that full
moon unmoved,
Far beyond touch!
Now moonlight
will never bloom here!
Never will
pain-sensitized feelings,
Answering and
counter-answering
Embrace each
other!
But I!
Just once will I
treat my mind!
Today, for the
first and last time!
I will, with my
own hands,
Do your royal,
unparalleled, unprecedented adornment!
Each adornment ritual!
Will tell the
tale of a separated life-journey!
Son!
You will be my
life's mirror!
A natural
offering bowed at his feet!
On your innocent
face,
This
anguished-distressed-heart's beating!
They will see,
the pulsation of ages of lives
My heart-wounded-life's
wealth!
This spotless,
soft, smooth,
New, blooming
face-lotus!
Seeing it,
Spontaneously
will surge, parental-love, boundless,
You my pure
darling!
Woman's mind's
unfailing, unerring arrow!
You my disguised,
charming, deadly, victory!
Spell-bound, bewildered,
the master will quickly become,
Compassionate!
He will come
holding your hand, to my door!
You my life's
adornment!
Listening to all
this, Rahul asked a distressed question!
How is father!
Just tell me this!
Gopa said softly,
Tall, in ochre robes,
pleasant-faced,
Golden-thousand-petaled-lotus!
As if, from the
blue cloud,
Countless rays,
light-illuminated,
The brilliant
golden sun risen,
Established dawn!
Half-closed to
the ear-root blue eyes,
All mental waves
in them have become,
Constantly absorbed,
peaceful!
Still,
unwavering, supreme luminous,
Self-illuminated,
gentle, speaking little, very trusting!
Grave, with
peaceful gait!
Rahul! My child!
My inner joy's
source!
In pain-stricken
moments
Learning to live
by looking at you!
You are his son!
Go bow down at
those feet,
Make your plea to
him!
He alone will
truly raise you up!
You his
offspring, asker of your rightful inheritance,
He, the protector
from all your calamities,
Impartial judge!
He the blazing
fierce spotless daylight!
Go! Touch his
feet,
Show him respect!
You!
Newly bloomed
radiant
Kinshuka-bud very
soft delicate!
Be humbly bowed,
Touch the
foot-dust!
May bloom,
On your
knowledge-horizon dawn-touched
Faith-droplet-adorned
wisdom-lotus,
Each fragrant,
petal!
You!
Pure beauty filled
fresh butter
Soft smooth
unblemished water-born!
Bidding him
farewell standing at the door,
Supremely
satisfied she looked with filled eyes,
At Rahul's dark
curly playful locks adorned with,
A jeweled golden
crown,
Around his neck a
precious pearl-gold necklace
And gold-studded
silk clothes
Various
ornaments!
With Shariputra
and Maudgalyayana,
Holding their
hands,
He was going like
a forest-born young deer!
Falling on the
green grass,
His playful swift
feet!
Closing the door,
In her room Gopa
stood anxious!
Like a dim moon
wrapped in mist!
What will happen!
What will the Lord do!
In this
uncertainty wind-tormented-whirling,
Was, the
mind-boat! Trembling,
Body-mind, pale
body!
On dry red
lip-buds,
Pain's serpent's
poisonous
Hundred-hundred,
bitten, blows!
Today is the
seventh day of the Lord,
the day of
arrival in Kapilavastu!
On the third day
of the Lord’s arrival,
Nanda's
coronation and wedding were to take place!
Without asking
him, without knowing his wish,
the Lord handed
over the robes of asceticism!
He!
Like a
hundred-petaled lotus,
infused with the
nectar of desires,
suddenly, a bolt
of lightning struck!
Meanwhile, the
lovely Sunanda,
a symbol of
fortune, adorned with
sacred verses,
saffron,
and the golden
grass of prosperity,
was lamenting
with impatient cries,
casting aside all
her ornaments,
and striking her
forehead in despair!
And Nand remained
silent!
Both
witnessed,
the flourishing
green banana grove,
ruthlessly
trampled by mad elephants!
And today, what
will be the outcome?
What of my
cherished, destined dreams!
It will demand
its due!
A heritage must
be handed down to the father!
Suddenly,
panting,
a servant rushed
in,
“Oh my Lord! Oh
my Lord!
In the shady
nyagrodha,
the Lord's feet
humbled,
Rahu is taking
the path of renunciation,
the last
descendant of the Kapilavastu dynasty!
His adornments
lay scattered,
torn as they fell
to the ground!
With astonished,
wide-open eyes,
the maid
exclaimed,
beating her chest
with both hands,
pulling at her
own hair!
She fell, dizzy
on the ground,
the pain surged
like a wounded deer,
crying out,
“Ah! Everything I
held dear has been lost!
This invincible,
unerring weapon,
now broken and
rendered powerless!
This blow!
Reversed and
wounded me inside out!
Ah, the cruel
gift of fate!
It snatched away
my fortune, like a hawk!
I!
I am thoroughly
defeated!
Ah, God!
In what
moments,
in what ticking
instances,
did you bring
forth
these damaged
souls,
infused with the
five elements?
Then why such
overwhelming pain?
What kind of
ruthless game is this?
The soul
burns—
within its own
flame,
lost in
bewilderment,
it collides from
every direction,
looping like a
shooting star!
Feeling
back,
Both past and
present!
All stones!
None offers a
reply!
And fate became a
sign for the future!
Forever remaining
unseen!
That!
Burning like a
swirling whirlwind,
remaining only in
the haze of dust,
becoming,
vanishing, flying away!
The
time-pulse—thunderous wheel!
It has gone,
ruthlessly crushing it!
That! Like an
axis in the center of the wheel,
Relentlessly
chafed, tortured, heated, bound!
A captive!
Always writhing
in agony!
No one was ever
his!
This was never
anyone's!
Whose shadow is
that!
Under whose
protection,
or utterly
alone,
this creature or
this life!
A witness to its
own birth and death!
This
question!
Sharp like an
unyielding axe,
shining
unwaveringly!
What they call
the Supreme Ruler,
Does he exist, or
has he ever?
If he does, then
only as unperturbed,
motionless,
inactive,
lying silent like
a hidden serpent!
All have
departed! One by one,
leaving me
helpless, solitary!
How the turbulent
mind rises
With
contradictions of thoughts!
All the firm,
settled beliefs of life shaken!
This piercing
storm!
The burning
tempest!
Alone I
stand!
Silent, and
helpless fought against all.
Ah! Pain!
At what cost did
you come to me!
I have been
paying your price for ages!
Day and
night,
Pain constantly
stands at my door!
How many masked
forms does he wear!
Sometimes, in
tearful memories,
fragrant, tender
moments,
Or unbearable,
piercing thorns of sunlight!
What has this
pain made of me!
Carrying my very
existence as a gift!
I am that dark,
inky abyss of night!
Even the shadow
has forsaken me!
I am the
frost-laden, jagged,
cold breeze!
Upon which, my
coming and going, shadow falls!
Dreaming—soft,
sweet dreams,
have become mute
whispers!
The silent,
stunned creation itself
has become an
invisible sign!
I, the remaining
fragment of
the collapsed
mansion of aspirations,
a solitary pillar
crumbling!
That at any
moment,
could fall
without reason, abruptly,
So am I,
bare, beneath the
canopy of destiny,
whose poisonous
breath
has burned the
budding seeds of joy!
I am—
how utterly
helpless, unprotected,
Neither earth,
nor sky!
Neither my own,
nor another's!
No one has been
moved!
Eyes searching
for their path on the horizon,
only carrying two
teardrop lamps!
Lord!
Ocean of
compassion!
Abode of
universal love!
What! Is the
mother of tenderness
a great hardness
of cruelty?
In this, only
pain is profound, deep, dense;
There is no
tenderness anywhere!
Alas, Lord!
Saying this, she wept
and covered her
face!
Where should I
go?
Where should I
stay?
Fate has given no
sign!
Should I also
renounce?
Detaching from
all worldly attachments,
become
disengaged!
But what!
Can this external
renunciation
Quench the thirst
of a troubled mind?
What will we
do?
These orange
robes!
This solitary
meal!
This too will
become a burden!
If I go to a place of meditation,
Then on what
strength!
Whether here or
there!
Whether I stay or
don’t stay!
What difference
does it make!
In this eternal,
vast flow of time,
I am neither a
tiny wave nor a small grass
that can meld
into the waves
or be tossed
around!
I am that, flying
in the strokes of the wind!
Dust of
time!
That flew with
the hints of the wind,
fell into the
water,
Then who knows
where!
Ultimately, what
am I?
Only made of
husband, son, love!
All hopes,
desires nurture, flourish,
and are watered
in them!
I am merely
void!
Now what remains
of anything?
Deprived of
them,
I am wholly
devoted in every breath!
Filled with the
fragrance of divine love,
My body, mind,
home, and courtyard!
Alas, unfortunate
fate!
Cruelly separated,
wounded life, moment by moment!
Why did the
laughing mirror of the East break?
Every sharp
particle pierces the heart!
I am that
restless, infatuated chakori!
I have remained
one-sided,
whose love thread
of connection
knows the attainment
of eternal thirst!
In a filled
heart, a tidal wave of joy!
With swift
flight, extending both wings!
Bitter truth!
Sharp scythe!
Both wings
severed, fell to the ground, unsupported!
Stirred by desire
and separation!
I am that!
Suffering past!
In which
everything is inscribed word for word!
The present!
This broken
bronze vessel receives no offering!
No, the future
does not fill it with
colorful
dreams!
Thus, Gopa, you
are the neglected past,
which has long
since passed into itself,
neither claimed
by the present
Nor granted
fearlessness by the future!
You!
Become the
knowledge-yielding future!
But, as a
listener,
losing
everything,
can you remain at
peace?
In the sacred
space,
both night and
day in the courtyard of your mind,
you will witness
the Lord of life!
And you will
behold beloved Rahul,
shorn head,
in the orange garment of ascetics!
What will arise
in your heart
when the little
fawn,
pressed against
your heart,
stands afar,
unknown?
Before you,
the eyes of
father and son,
utterly
unfamiliar,
will speak a
familiar language,
So
practiced!
The son will not
say, "Mother,"
Nor will the
husband call out, "Gopa!"
This
heart-wrenching pain!
This untouched
experience of grief!
You will have to
drink this poison,
sip by sip!
Then! Then!
Why this maternal
love
screams out and
proclaims!
Those who have
passed away,
upon these
anguished souls,
they are the
masters of eternal lives!
The heart forever
remains the follower of those feet!
Gopa!
Ram never told
Sita,
"You are no longer my
wife!"
Gopa!
This challenge
must also be taken upon the heart of steel!
As Janaki burned
three times in the raging fire!
You must endure,
ceaselessly,
unabated, moment by moment,
burning in the
fire of the heart!
This!
You must
withstand the heat of the mind, the restraint of discipline!
Even while
together,
remain detached,
unmoved, silent!
What will
transpire before your eyes?
Like a sharp
edge,
it will pierce
your heart,
moving
through,
Without a sigh,
in silent resignation!
This heart binds
itself,
to the
unutterable, painful identity of the unknown!
In tears, from
the flaming breaths,
You will have to
write upon the silent canvas of the heart!
In the pangs of
ache,
these documents
of relationship and separation must emerge,
Read upon the
pages of the night!
Drenching in your
own tears,
fragmenting the
feeling within,
before
rising,
you will have to
press your chest with both hands,
To calm the
incessant throbbing!
Forget your
existence!
Forget your
ego!
You must meet the
standards of purification!
What
remains,
When all tender
bonds of deep affection have shattered?
The center has
wavered, a life unlaced,
now this eternal,
fragmented, desolate garden,
thirsty for rain,
long parched,
waiting,
a lonely, burning
shore of sand!
Intense neglect,
wounded like a dagger,
Petal by petal,
the lotus dissolves!
The heart is
anguished by profound grief!
Never again will
I find the wealth of my heart—
O Lord, or dear
Rahul!
Of their own free
will, they abandoned me!
They shattered me
into countless particles!
Just as the
life-force relinquishes all!
So too is this
desolate, sorrowful life-force,
trembling from
these unceasing blows!
My very identity
has separated from me!
Now, Gopa!
Where have you
gone?
That Gopa, long
scorned, long neglected,
a flower, wilted
by the blows of fate!
Time, which the
earth knows as its full form,
Is greatly
disturbed!
In this
heart-piercing memory-hall of ruins,
the mind is
distraught, painfully wandering,
aimlessly
drifting!
Like a waterfall
touching every stone,
every boulder—it
searches within them for the pulse of a life in exile!
And agonizingly
caught up,
it flows on,
stuck,
in its
suffering!
What will happen
to such a tormented mind,
that exists only
in the vast void!
Desires burn,
writhe in agony!
This mind!
Has become an
ignited cosmic crematorium!
Where hot dust is
soaring!
Only piercing,
sharp thorns!
Devastated hopes,
yearnings, broken affections!
Now, whether a
temple or a funeral pyre,
Both are the
same!
Carrying these
lightless, colorless breaths,
A single stringed
instrument!
Now I have also
moved on,
bearing this
life,
defeated in every
way!
Life comes
solitary;
It departs in
solitude!
All desires have
been burned away!
Wounded,
shattered,
By its own
despairing tendencies!
Only a connection
of time remains!
Otherwise, the
being!
What can it gain
from anyone?
Relation!
A synonym for
exchange!
All
principles!
Mutually
contradicting each other!
Relation,
is a finely
balanced beam of a scale!
Emotion!
In emotional
propensity,
There lies the
distance of day and night!
Thus, Gopa, you
are empty of both!
Only the dust is
fluttering within you!
This detachment
alone,
Is the true
identity of a renounced ascetic!
Now, O Lord of
life!
Or O Rahul of
life!
The breath has
become restless!
As much as it
could ever be!
The deep immortal
despair has turned me into stone!
I!
Now, it is only I
who exist!
My destination!
My destiny!
My determined
goal!
My certain
refuge!
This fate!
No matter how
cruel it may be,
I! Firmly
resolved, without doubt, fearless!
Have risen,
standing like Yashodhara!
With teary eyes,
the tears have become stones!
Both the lamps of
my eyes ignite!
For a moment, I
gazed unblinkingly,
at the shattered
tombs of hopes,
Drawing a deep
breath for final farewell!
This
heart-piercing sigh!
Will now always
circle here within!
From the
beginning, the universally conscious gap transmits,
The female
heart!
Pain!
If the universe
itself turns into a birch plate!
The law,
saturated with
tears, in the vessel of love,
the writing of
destiny, submerged,
This unending
pain of separation!
Continues to
write with the fingers of the stars!
This immortal
tale of suffering
will never be
complete!
In the depths of
the world,
like an eternal
blazing torch,
this will keep
turning forever!
Gopa!
Daughter of the
Shakyas,
born of the
Kshatriya clan,
Noble Katyayani!
Noble Kanchana!
Well-bred
daughter!
Princess of
Devadaha!
Beauty of
the era,
A challenge!
Unparalleled,
unique, unsurpassed beauty,
The immensely
glorious lady!
With the best
radiance, brightness, and charm,
The lovely
figure,
The beautiful
maiden!
Supremely
honored, wife of Gautama,
Mother of Rahul,
Yashodhara, Gopa,
Vimba, thus addressed!
The last royal
bride of Kapilavastu!
Royal
fortune!
Was
steadfast,
manifested,
In her unseen
fate, destiny, and essence!
Unwavering,
steadfast destiny structure!
In hand, the
bowl, offerings, garments,
draped in
glorious ochre attire!
With long black,
uncombed hair!
The radiant and
pure disposition of the ascetic!
Became!
The embodiment of
power!
The unfathomable
enchantress!
Gautami!
Deeply immersed
in profound thought!
Eyes ablaze with
excited tears!
Silently, alone,
solitary!
Gently stepped
forward, and stood!
At the entrance
of the Nyagrodha-Aaram!
Salutations!
Salutations to
the unwavering,
Firm in
resolve!
The immensely
sacrificial, auspicious one!
Born of the
primal power!
The ultimate
crown gem of motherhood, adorned!
The identity of
Indian culture!
Filled with
auspiciousness, with pride and dignity,
The ever-fragrant
soul!
A bowed and
humbled heart!
On the world’s
lotus, freshly blooming,
The first rays of
the sunrise!
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